


different kinds of love

by iwritetrash



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Drummond still dies, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Internal Monologue, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, No Dialogue, essentially wilhelmina's thoughts during the proposal, from the christmas special, it's a fix it of sorts, platonic wilhelmina/alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: Alfred’s words echo in her ear. What kind does he feel for her, she wonders? That of a brother for his sister, that of a friend for a friend? Certainly not that which he felt for Mr Drummond, she is sure. If Alfred is trying to convince her of his affection for her then he must forget that she has seen his eyes as he looked upon his lover, and she knows the emotion which can fill them. That is not what she sees in his eyes when he looks at her.





	different kinds of love

**Author's Note:**

> i had some Feelings™ about the christmas special, and this is the result. i didn't want to just lift dialogue right from the show bc when i do that it ends up kind of clumsy, but i also can't write my own, so i just cut dialogue altogether and went for an internal monologue of sorts running through wilhelmina's thoughts.
> 
> essentially this is me fixing the mess that was this episode with a little more clarity on the alfred-mourning-drummond bit, and some insight into his motives in proposing (through wilhelmina's eyes) and her reasons for saying yes...
> 
> i hope you like it

Wilhelmina is not naïve. She knows from Lord Alfred’s eyes that he does not, no, _cannot_ love her. His heart resides six feet underground with the body of poor Mr Drummond, a fact which is plain to see in his distractedness, his constant melancholy, and the black coat he wears every day.

She knows it when he kisses her; there is no love there. Not romantic love, anyway.

When he proposes, she knows he is not doing it out of love, or desire, but out of thanks. Thanks for the locket, for the lock of hair, for her support in the past months. In thanks, he offers her the most important thing in the world for a woman such as herself: security.

It is no secret that the clock is ticking for Wilhelmina. If she does not marry soon, she risks becoming an old maid with nobody to care for her but her older brother, who would be glad to rinse his hands of her. Alfred, however, is a man with a title, with lands, and with money to keep her in comfort for as long as she lives.

Could she accept that though? A loveless marriage of convenience? Perhaps she has been reading too many romances, as her aunt says.

_Different kinds of love_.

Alfred’s words echo in her ear. What kind does he feel for her, she wonders? That of a brother for his sister, that of a friend for a friend? Certainly not that which he felt for Mr Drummond, she is sure. If Alfred is trying to convince her of his affection for her then he must forget that she has seen his eyes as he looked upon his lover, and she knows the emotion which can fill them. That is not what she sees in his eyes when he looks at her. 

But perhaps, Wilhelmina thinks, this is as much as she will ever receive, and this is as much as she can possibly hope for. Perhaps there is not another man out there willing to marry her, and perhaps there is not another soul out there who can ever understand Alfred as she does. 

In her moment of hesitation, it is that which she sees in his eyes. Mutual companionship. If they cannot be with the ones which they love – Wilhelmina’s mind’s eye takes her back to Ernest, and she is sure Alfred is thinking of Mr Drummond – then perhaps they can at least be with each other. As friends.

It is not the stuff of romance novels, nor is it quite what she had hoped for, but it will be just enough, she thinks, for the two of them. It will be just enough to make this long life more bearable.

A compromise with the fates.

She agrees, and when Alfred hugs her she sees in his eyes an emotion which is surely reflected in her own.

_Almost happy_.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still settling into writing wilhelmina's POV (this is practice kind of for my all that lives must die series because i'm not used to writing from her perspective _at all_ ), so let me know what you think of it! (i'm hoping wilhelmina's part of all that lives must die will be finished soon but i'm rewriting the whole thing bc i hated my first version so... it might be a while...)
> 
> let me know if you liked this, and thank you so much for reading! <3


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